Unorthodox Fic
by Masterless
Summary: Segments of my future fan fiction. A cross over featuring Skyrim's Dragonborn and Frozen's Snow Queen.
1. Random I

**Frozen Skyrim I**

I take in the dense air as slowly as I can. Finding refuge in a cave deeper into the ice definitely makes things far more dramatic as it has to be, but I suppose that's the result of being desperate. A strange notion if I do say so myself since I'm not used to being in dire need; well for the most part, it's not for my sake. I turn towards her as she grazes her hand through the icy walls of this cave, bare hands and all. Normal folks of this hostile land wouldn't openly take in the cold glaze of the ice, but it is pretty obvious that she isn't one of the norm; In fact she sticks out like a sore thumb, and not only with the elegance that her glimmering blue dress that adorns her stature, or the almost snow white hair that is braided and rests on her left shoulder, and it's not even because of the beautiful face that spells enchantment that I say she is obviously not from this world. Those are far too obvious factors that reveal her origins aren't from here. What I am speaking about are her expressions, reactions, and perceptions. In the time we have inadvertently been spending time together, I have learned that she shouldn't be here… This land is desolation that would rape her 'almost-too-kind' existence.

She is magical, and there is no magic that can spell her that are from my tongue… she is indeed a testament of _magical presence _without the destructive side to it.

"There is a lot of hostility in this frozen land," She speaks, and even her voice carries a bit of enchantment to it which intrigues me, but I don't' show it; I keep myself hidden inside the Masque of Clavicus Vile. "Almost like bloodshed is what truly makes this world go round."

"You can hear the hymn of war mongers in the frozen air, I see," I shift slightly, the sound of my armor grazing on the cold ground echoing across this open cold space. "Your birthright powers seems to have more to it than what I can fathom."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm born with a curse," A curse she says and I slightly nod, a gesture she didn't notice as she seems to be at a loss staring at her hands. "It's been a while since I felt like this." There's a lot in those words that I don't even have the slightest clue as to how they really play into her story. Honestly, it's not entirely my business, but what is going on now is.

"That skeever that brought you here thinks otherwise. I'm sure if he thought that, he would have no qualms taking your life a long time ago. However, he brought you here restrained and alive, so there must be more to it for him than a '_curse'_."

Her posture changed the moment I brought that up. That fateful moment when I came by that lone isle northeast of Solitude and found her… who knew it would be all this. As I was momentarily stuck at those thoughts, she slowly made her way towards me; her footsteps echoing as the heels of her shoes hit the ground and causing a bit of distortion in the ice; small spikes appearing behind her, as if drawing a path of some sort. I take note of her again, glancing upward as she stands over me, fists clenched tightly, those icy blue eyes glaring right at me, and the angry expression on her face.

"If you don't mind, I'm not too fond of remembering that right now so can you please be a bit more discreet in the way you use your words?"

Even if my eyes can't be seen through my helmet, I'm sure she can tell that I am staring at her dead on the eyes. Again those icy blue eyes becoming like a beacon for me to stare at forever. They would be mundane if it wasn't for the slight tint of her powers emanating from them, which of course concurs with the mild show of her power by surrounding her with a small snowstorm. I'm not sure if she is doing it on purpose as an act of trying to intimidate me… or perhaps her control isn't at its finest and her powers reacts according to her emotions. At this moment, I don't really know and it doesn't bother me; there is no harm, yet.

"From here, it will only get worse. This is nothing like the land you came from. This land is dangerous, hungry, and vengeful. If my words pierces, then I suggest you had better get used to it," I push myself up to a standing position. She doesn't flinch as I am now looking down on her thanks to the height difference. I am by no means over towering her, but she isn't exactly a Nord or a High Elf. "This Hans has a purpose and it seems to be linked with your abilities. So spare yourself the asinine sensitivity to words, Elsa."

Her eyes narrows and the snowstorm becomes a bit more violent, sending some of the ice in this cave to shambles, crashing all around and stirring up an unfriendly sounds in this cold and isolated cave. I stare at her for a few more moments, observing her facial features, noticing that her braided hair no longer resting on her left shoulder as it magically seems to always do, and all the while I conceal the expression of amusement behind the stoic expression of my helmet. With a smirk, I turn my back on her and start to walk away. I managed to catch a glimpse of her anger, enhanced by my action of giving her my back. It only took no more than four steps until a wall of ice to block my way. That grin on my face widen and I tilt my posture so that I would be looking at her again. One hand raised and pointed at me with open an palm while the other still in a fist, glowing exuberantly with her element.

"Don't turn you back on me, Onyx!"

"You came here against your own accord, dragged in bondage by some lunatic who seems to have an agenda that is locked to your powers," Not doing much to alleviate her anger, not that it was my intention. "I saved you and took a step further and prevented you from being eaten by giant. We are secluding ourselves in this cave because every guild and faction I had a connection with are hunting us down, all because of a prophecy of an Ice Queen's arrival in Skyrim; A prophecy that tells of either great fortune or destruction. So, _your Highness_, if you don't mind me being a bit cynical and lacking sensitivity because my normal routine is distorted, I'd greatly appreciate that."

Despite anger still evident in her expression and demeanor, the flaunting of her powers seemed to have decreased but the snowstorm perpetuates as well as those ice cold glow within her eyes. With my hand on the hilt of Muramasa, I turn around again and begin to walk to the other end of the cave.

"Some say I'm cold and yet I meet a man whose words are colder than ice and a face that is hidden behind an emotionless mask."

"The irony is quite stark, isn't it, Elsa? But the cold shouldn't bother you anyway."


	2. Random II

**Frozen Skyrim II**

The door echoes as I kick it down. Abandoned as it may have been, this shack's door always remains closed for some strange reason. Whether it be the winds or the temporary tenants that closes it, such mystery shall remain as such since there is something far more dire for me to put my attention to.

"H-Hurts…"

She speaks with an agonizing tone as she states the obvious. I don't need a vocal announcement since I have the visuals to tell me. The bleeding has stained the magical thread that adorns her body some time ago. It trickles down to her long skirt, trailing to her bare leg, and leaving a path of blood behind us. For the most part, we may be safe from any hunter thanks to the body of water I have carried her over, but it won't be long until we are found. I have pondered on the idea of taking her to my last place of solace, but she needs to be tended to now. Elsa may have the power to control anything that is _frozen_, but she is still mortal apparently, and the arrow that punctured her naval proves just that.

"Onyx… it… it…"

"There are two reasons why you shouldn't speak right now," I walk over to the dirty bedroll and carefully ease her down from my arms. Of course she lets out a few painful grunts and screams as every movement agitated the fatal wound. "The first is that you'll attract attention with whatever beast is around us; that is if they didn't smell your blood already. Second, any energy you may have left, you'll need it, so please, silence will probably be best for the two of us."

I can tell she attempts to shoot a glare at me but really couldn't muster any sort of anger since the pain is dominating her senses. Arrows would do its damage when someone doesn't wear the proper armor but the fact that a daedric arrow is the one the sticking out of her body makes things far more complicating than it already is. The last potion I forced her to drink during this less than promising trek is wearing off so suffice to say, she is in dire need of a restoration **_soon_**.

A sound from the distance, hooves hitting the snow and the sound of armor clattering with every movement. Acting on instinct, my hand reaches for the hilt of my blade and my stance shifts so that I am more than ready to face the coming danger. With my state of mind focusing on another inevitable battle, perhaps I would've just left her so I would tend to what I am truly meant for: bloodshed. Though the sound she makes that is laced with dreadful pain gets me to turn to her direction once more and I catch a glimpse of her agony. She will die… and perhaps that shall end this debacle… that sigil stone will not have a purpose other than be an open door for aesthetics… her death will not be on my hands… the fate of Skyrim is finally out of my hands… though that path doesn't sit well with me for some reason…

"P-Please…."

I study her face again as her blue eyes are now running low of enchantment, despite the fact that the bed she is lying down on is now starting to feel the true essence of her power. Even in such a dying situation, her powers react to her duress…. And perhaps the only reason why it's not the storm surrounding us is that she is in excruciating and fatal pain. I look towards her wound as she clutches it with her hands that are also covered in blood… her breathing echoing irregularly. She needs restoration. Now.

"Asinine girl," I sigh as my hand slides away from the comfort of the hilt of my red katana. "I told you that talking only detriments you and I."

"W-Wha…what?"

"Bite this." Elsa's eyes widens as I ease a cloth between her teeth with some minor force. Mewling between the cloth, she looks at me with baffled eyes, trying to see some kind of answer through my stoic helmet. "I can't have you scream. I cannot heal you if I am fending off whatever else is after us."

She understood what I meant long before I finished my sentence. Her teeth clamping on the cloth, while her lips quiver at the thought of what I was about to do. Without any warning, I grab the arrow firmly.

"UUuuummm!"

With her teeth clenching tightly on the cloth, Elsa squeals from the pain, letting out a muffled echo. Her fingers digging into the ground and omitting some of her ice powers. Painful as this process is, I know it has to be done this way; I _used_ to do it this way…. I am no mage of restoration, though I do know about it. I have used it on myself when I was the weakling that I was back then… Now I rarely use restoration, and to apply it on another person… that is an even more of a foreign task. One that I seemed to be forced to do since the situation would mean her death; a death that I am apparently unable to walk away from for some accursed reason. Closing my eyes within the confines of my helmet, I open my right palm and call forth the healing glow of a restoration spell. The sight of an ebony clad man with horns using restoration spells never quite fits the picture in my mind. I can tell from her reaction, it's not entirely something she is used to as well considering the reputation she has seen and heard of me.

"This will hurt before it will feel better."

"Uh... uuhmhfuhnh...!"

I hover my hand with the healing glow over her wound while the other hand slowly starts to pull on the arrow, trying to extract it so that she may truly heal. Normally this wouldn't be the best solution since an arrow being pulled out would do far more damage than actually do some good; that's what the restoration spell is for. Of course she still feels pain… far more pain than she deserves. While she feels that, I on the other hand experience a myriad of things such as emotions… I see memories that aren't my own…

**_'Let it go…'_**

**_'Your sister is dead! Because of you!'_**

**_'What are you so afraid of?!'_**

I hear her voice somewhere there as well as others. One I recognize, the other, I do not. The images doesn't concur with these voices…

**_'You built me, remember that?'_**

**_'Conceal it. Don't feel it. Don't let it show.'_**

Faces of an unknown lifetime. Perhaps it is true about what they say when using restoration. Sometimes the memories leak from one person to another. They say that significant thoughts and experiences help knit the damage that has been done.

**_'Monster! MONSTER!'_**

**_'We'll reverse the storm you made.'_**

**_'... Here I stand…'_**

I see more of them: Fragments of memories, significant lessons, and a dozen other things that I do not comprehend. I feel heavy… compassionate… and empathetic.


	3. Random III

**Frozen Skyrim III**

Onyx called them 'Dawnguards'. As if names of attackers really meant anything to Elsa these days. As far as she knows, anyone who is heavily armed and shooting an arrow at her is a mercenary one way or another; and there have been a plethora of them since she was unceremoniously brought to this land called Skyrim. Armors and 'faces' unique to these groups have all become a blur to Elsa, all she knows is that they are dangerous and relentless.

"The witch! Ignore the Dragonborn! Kill the witch!"

One of them shouted, which got Elsa's attention towards his direction. Their crossbows locked and aimed at her direction and she can't help but gasp at this predicament.

"Shoot her! Shoot her!"

A fray of arrows flies her way and she immediately responds by lifting a block of ice from the snow filled ground that acts as an effective shield against the projectiles. Given a moment of reprieve, Elsa's first reaction is to turn to Onyx's direction who is currently dealing with his own situation; these mercenaries came in numbers and with impeccable timing. While Onyx's skill allows him to stay alive, his injuries from the last event still encumber him greatly. Despite that he is still able to handle his assailants quite well with his crimson blade, he isn't doing everything he can to end the battle quicker, which signifies that he is still replenishing himself. Elsa won't be able to depend on him since he is bombarded with his own set of problems. As Onyx beheads yet another opponent, Elsa uses her powers to push herself of from where she stands, the snow beneath her projecting her to gain distance away from her own immediate attackers. The moment she lands, Elsa must once again construct another shield of ice to ward off another set of arrows and retaliates by commanding the snow beneath the archers to project up, propelling them upward with such a force that it renders a couple of them unconscious the moment of they land on the ground.

"We will save Skyrim!"

The powers she spent a decade concealing has apparently been part of a prediction from the gods of this land; a foreboding tale of an Ice Queen who would bring destruction to Skyrim. Now the people long for her death, while some try to find a way to control her, either or, it doesn't exactly spell the most comforting fate. This group apparently has her death in mind; they attack her with full conviction and with one coming at her with blade in lead, she needs to react. The blade comes towards her in a dangerous arc, which Elsa uses a thick pillar of ice she summons out of nowhere to deter it. The force was so great that the attacker's blade is now stuck, leaving him open for Elsa to strike him with another construct of ice from the side. As he tumbles away in pain, the others take his place with the same conviction for Elsa's blood on their blades.

_"They're trying to kill me… they're trying to kill me," _While Elsa battles her inhibitions, she creates a few spheres made of ice from behind. _"They're trying to kill me…. I have to…"_

With a forward gesture of her hand, the spheres fly towards her attackers, hitting some of them, while the rest quickly repositions themselves together with their shields held up high, affectively protecting them from the summoned hailstorm. While they remained in their defensive formation, Elsa commands the snow around them to surround the mercenaries, and before long, the gust of snow is made into a solid block of ice that imprisons them uncomfortably inside its confining space. With another danger deterred, a sound from her side immediately gets her to turn only to witness a phantom like wolf gnawing on another mercenary that would've gotten to her. Looking towards Onyx's direction for a moment, he takes a moment to nod his head at her; She reciprocates the gesture, knowing full well that his summoned wolf just saved her life. The battle ensues for him, his blade taking another life causing blood to drip on the white snow, painting it with a morbid splatter of red.

_"Killing is second nature to him. He can whimsically use the gifts bestowed upon him with no thought of the damage they unleash," _Looking back at the mercernary that almost took her through her blindside, she witnesses him plunge a dagger on the phantasm wolf with his left hand, as the said wolf gnaws on his right. The wolf yelps in pain before vanishing in a translucent blue smoke; now his attention is back on Elsa but she quickly averts his attempts by binding him with ice on the ground. _"He doesn't care about fear or isolation. He only cares about survival, and he will do anything to get there."_

The numbers may have decreased, but the rest are still coming in full fury, screaming their battle cries with vehemence as they charge towards her. Taking a deep breath, Elsa stomps her foot into the ground, momentarily creating the insignia of hers within the snow. From one of the legs of the floral snowflake, a path of ice slithers towards the group, and the moment it reaches them, it immediately causes anything metal to be unbearably cold, therefore halting their attacks and causing them to stumble on the ground, shivering in the cold embrace of Elsa's powers.

_"But I am not like him," _She turns to his direction once more only to witness him take another life; the crimson blade he calls Muramasa is now piercing deep into another victim, its long sharp form protruding at the other end of the dying Dawnstar soldier. _"I will survive this. I will go back to Arendelle with my sanity."_


	4. Announcement

I don't think I'll be doing anymore updates on this particular area. I have officially started the "Skyrim and the Snow Queen" story arc. I have the chapters in both this page and my DA.


	5. Random IV

I clash my cup with Kharjo before taking a huge gulp of my mead. It's been quite some time since I have had the chance to share a drink with the Khajiit and we do so with pride, sitting in the bar, our backs turned towards the rest of the crowd who are enjoying the night with their own respected drinks. The bards are out and they sing their songs to add to the ambiance while the crowd cheered on. It's definitely one of those nights; a rare occasion to find myself in with everything that has been going on.

"The _Legendary_ Onyx manages to leave his helmet off for more than an hour," Keerava, the innkeeper had always been friendly due to my business with Riften, though teasing is often not welcome despite her being comfortable doing it, "then whispers pervading all about must be telling the truth."

"You should concentrate on acquiring more word of work for the common mercenaries," I respond before taking another drink, "rather than entertain gossips of adolescents."

"Come now, Dragonborn, she is right," Kharjo himself can't help but add in to the pestering, "ever since her arrival, just how many more pillaging and slave trade have been deterred?"

I respond with a glare which makes Kharjo chuckle as he takes another sip of his drink. Honestly, Kharjo is a better comrade in battle than a person to have a conversation with. Well, at least there are times when he knows when to stop pushing the issue of certain topics; luckily this is one of those times. For a few moments there was only the sound of the party and the fire crackling beside us. To my dismay however, I can't help but delve into those thoughts that were instigated by the questions placed on my lap. Truth or not, I'm not much to confirm them so I'll leave them to be rumors.

Then the music starts and I recognized the tune immediately; I surmise another bard would pay his respect to my presence. It's a common tribute in Riften, one that sometimes ends up a bit of an embarrassment because of the wine being passed around. Shrugging my shoulder, I take my cup and take another big gulp, nearly finishing it.

"_Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart_,"

Any action I was about to make comes to a complete halt as the voice resounds among the crowd, silencing the hollering of the drunks and the jolly.

"_I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes_."

If Kharjo wasn't looking pass me, I'm sure he can tell that my body language shifts from a stoic and bored posture, to a more shocked and intrigued one. The Khajiit's cup is halfway towards his mouth, mystified by the singer's voice. Even Keerava pauses from her cleaning routine as she stares towards the center of the inn.

"_With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord arts,_

_Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes."_

By now I had turned my body so that my attention would be at the small gathering of people who are giving the singer their undivided attention.

"_It's an end to the Evil of all Skyrim's foes,"_

I can't quite see her; too many gathered around enjoying the beauty of her voice.

_"__Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes."_

Sliding off the stool, I place my feet on the ground, letting my boots touch the wooden floor as I slowly walk towards the circle of people.

_"__For the Darkness has passed and the legend yet grows,"_

There she is indeed… singing the songs that so many have failed to impress me with. There she is, the one they call 'Snow Queen', the blight of Skyrim, singing the song that tells of my legend.

_"__You'll know, you'll know, the Dragonborn comes."_

She sings in exaltation despite her knowledge of what the Dragonborn does. Her face ever so graceful as she hums the rest of the tune as the words of the common tongue had ended… she sang it beautifully that she pulled every eyes and ears at her direction.

"If you do not kiss Elsa for singing a song about you," Kharjo is now standing beside me; watching her in awe like me, "I shall do it for you."

I stare at Kharjo with an expression mixed with annoyance and astonishment and he chuckles in response as he offers a toast with his cup.

_"__Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin_

_Naal ok zin los vahriin,"_

And out of nowhere she sings words in dragon tongue….

_"__Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal_

_Ahrk fin norok paal graan,"_

Everyone gawks at her and for the first time in forever, the natives and I have the same expressions and feelings residing within our faces.

_"__Fod nust hon zindro zaan_

_Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal."_

How she managed to sing with such eloquence in a foreign tongue has me _frozen_ in place. As Elsa hums to the closing tune of the song, I give Kharjo's words some thought.

* * *

**I just had to get this out of my mind. I'm pretty sure this will happen somewhere in the later chapters(MUCH LATER) of Frozen Skyrim. Yeah, a bit of a spoiler I suppose. And obvioulsy a few things will change and it will be much more detailed when the time comes. **


End file.
